


The Devil In The Details (Mark Pellegrino+OC)

by angel_scoggins



Category: Mark Pellegrino - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Arguing, Caught, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Guilt, Hot Sex, Mark Pellegrino - Freeform, Oral Sex, Scolding, Shameless Smut, Smut, Supernatural - Freeform, fan fiction, fan fiction writer, in trouble, young actress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-15 01:53:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14149374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_scoggins/pseuds/angel_scoggins
Summary: A young actress sets up a secret fan fiction account where she vents her sexual desire for actor Mark Pellegrino. Then her secret is discovered, making the friendship between then decidedly strained. When they meet at a neighbors party Mark decides to give her a scolding and a lesson she won't ever forget.





	The Devil In The Details (Mark Pellegrino+OC)

**Author's Note:**

> So from what I've been led to believe by someone who knows him, Mark does seem to know about my fan fiction. So I wrote a story about the various emotions brought up by writing such work and the relationship as it were between a writer and the object of their affection, or obsession, depending on ones point of view.

I grew up around acting. Both of my parents had done Broadway and my mother had moved on to have a successful career on the small screen. At 17 I landed a big part in a Steven Spielberg movie and not long after costarred with Keanu Reeves in a Michael Bay film. By the time I was twenty eight I had racked up a rather nice assortment of roles on both the big big screen and on TV series and even a couple of plays my mother had been a part of. At the moment my second biggest life event was as the star of a bio epic about the life of Amelia Earhart in a made for TV mini series. Up until recently my every waking moment had been devoted to research and developing my understanding of the role I was about to take on.   
My biggest life event at the moment was the entire world finding out that I had had a Tumblr page devoted to Mark Pellegrino fan fiction.  
The whole thing had started out as a minor crush. I’d seen the actor around before, obviously, since we hung out together in the same circles. But I’d never done anything more than hug him upon us stumbling into each other and exchanging messages back and forth on social media. But, behind closed doors I had become an avid fan of his work. And more than that, I’d fallen in love with the man behind the stories. Even though I felt pretty damn idiotic over having such feelings for someone who barely knew I existed.   
So I vented my sexual feelings by writing these long and drawn out sexual fantasies of Mark in all these different sexual situations with all sorts of women. Doing all sorts of nasty things I would have loved to see Mark do. My following under my anonymous account was always small, which was fine by me. I didn’t want my secret life to be discovered, though I secretly enjoyed the idea of being discovered or that Mark might somehow stumble across my filthy stories. Again, it felt rather embarrassing to me. But thrilling, too.  
Until the day it actually happened, however. I’m not sure if it was just a random fan who got overly curious about the posts or a friend of mine who I had a falling out with a few weeks prior, but my secret smut account was plastered all over the magazines and I had calls from all sorts of shows far and wide wanting me to come on and talk about why a golden globe winning actress was spending her free time writing porn starring a Supernatural actor. I was mortified. To make matters worse, Mark had vanished off the radar. Simply choosing to act that if he just ignored me long enough I just might drift off into outer space or something and this would all be over. He was avoiding all questions about the situation and had even left social media for a while. No amount of me calling or emailing got through to him.  
I immediately took the page down, but the damage had already been done. I can’t say it hurt my career however, since people finding out I was an attractive woman with a nasty mind only garnered me more male fans. And young women wrote me telling me how erotic they found my stories and how I had inspired them to write some of their own. And suddenly I was being offered parts as strippers and drug addicts and femme fatales. I even landed a part as a bond girl in the latest James Bond flick. All because of those X- rated stories of Mark.  
I didn’t see Mark again till I was at a party one of my director friends had thrown for me at her house to celebrate the success of my Amelia Earhart movie, which had been picked up as a series on A&E. The place was packed with models, actors and actresses from all genres of movies and theater and fashion. I wasn’t drunk by any means, but I was well on my way to slightly tipsy with a Smirnoff in my hands. That’s when I spotted a familiar figure standing out by the pool beyond the double glass doors.  
Without stopping to think about what I was doing, and maybe a little because of the vodka in my hand, I went outside to stand beside the man I had watched on screen and jerked off to many, many times. It’s a weird sensation, I can tell you that much right now.  
Mark was wearing a black free speech T-shirt and a pair of jeans. His arms were crossed and he was staring into the depths of the pool as if he expected it to answer him in some meaningful way or other. I’d seen Mark get like this on more than one occasion. People wore on his nerves and, though he might start out an event or a photo shoot all smiles and friendliness, towards the end he had to get away to be by himself. Maybe walk his dog or go for a run. He was a deeply thoughtful man, and sometimes the constant distraction and noise of people wore him down.  
“Long time no spooning,” I said once I was close enough to Mark to touch him. I didn’t, though. I wasn’t that drunk.  
Mark turned to me and those beautiful blue eyes I had admired for so long stared into my own with an intensity that made me step back a few paces. I had realized a long time ago that Mark was a highly intelligent man, cunning even, and his eyes could go from being warm and loving to so piercing you felt like he was looking right into your soul. Unnerving for someone watching him play Lucifer on the small screen, but even more so when you see it up close in person.   
"You’re not researching another story, are you?“ The words were light, but Mark’s tone was deadly serious. And he continued to eye me as if he could see every wrong I had ever done in my life, including stealing Jessica Tanner’s peanut butter and jelly sandwich when I was in third grade.  
"Oh, so you’re still pissed about that.” I acted like his forgiveness meant nothing to me, but deep down I was scared shitless. Mark always scared me shitless. You wouldn’t think that would go along with the feelings I had for him, but it sure as hell did.  
"I’m not pissed, I’m disappointed,“ Mark replied, his voice getting softer. Whether from anger or some other emotion I couldn’t really be sure. "How could you think that was appropriate? All that stuff had my name all over it. You know how many people I know read it? How could you think that was acceptable? Tell me.”  
I looked away from him. In the privacy of my bedroom at three in the morning my reasoning had seemed alright with me. Write some smut stories and post them online, getting a thrill out of the whole secretive affair. But now, standing here in person with Mark looking like he wanted nothing better than to shove me into the pool, I felt like an idiotic teenage girl caught having a crush on a boy who hated her guts.   
"I’m sorry, Mark,“ I said wiping away the tears running down my face. "I’ve always liked you. I guess I just chose the wrong way to show it. I’m sorry.”  
I was surprised when I felt a pair of strong arms go around me and Mark put his chin on top of my head. It was a warm, intimate gesture that immediately soothed me and I found myself sinking into his embrace. Everything about him smelled and felt wonderful, not the best of descriptions, but if you’ve ever been held by Mark you would understand just how accurate it is. I felt like nothing could ever hurt me as long as I stood here in his arms. Almost like I was finally in a place that felt like home.  
"Sometimes a person thinks with their heart and not their head. And they get illogical about things.“ Mark stroked my head as he spoke, stopping to kiss me once on the forehead. "I just never thought you’d let that kind of dirtiness cloud your judgment. You seemed like such an intelligent, logical young woman. I didn’t expect anything like that out of you.”  
“So, you don’t like me?” I trembled in his arms. This was the question I had longed to ask for a long time but was too afraid of the answer to go there.  
Mark tilted my chin up so that I was looking into his eyes again. I found a gentleness there that took my breath away. A kindness I hadn’t been expecting to find. “There are parts of you I don’t like. I admire how analytical you are. Driven. Accomplished. You can do anything you put your mind to. But you can also be attention seeking, sophomoric and thoughtlessly cruel. You had no right to do what you did. It was the actions of a petulant child. And we’re not children.”  
I started to tear up again, but Mark put a stop to the impending waterworks by lowering his lips to mine. It was the lightest of touches, then he quietly shushed me and picked me up in his arms. He took me back into the house, ignoring the stares of everyone, and carried me up to the first floor master bedroom. He laid me down upon the bed, stopping for just a moment to stare down at my tear streaked face.  
“I’ve thought about you like this so many times. Maybe not the same way as your stories. Though I did find them vary educational.” He smiled down at me as he worked on taking my dress off. And his pants and shirt.  
“Which parts?” I teased him.  
Mark placed frenzied kisses on my neck and shoulder, licking and biting my sensitive skin. “Everything. Everything. You’re such a sexy woman. Everything about you. Even the way you think turns me on.”  
I reached down and stroked Mark’s thick cock in my hands, he moaned, leaning into me a moment before pushing my hands away and moving down between my legs. He had a clever, knowing tongue, and I soon found myself clutching his blond head and screaming as I rode his face. My orgasm was long and hard, my head flying back as I cried his name.   
Mark smiled as he kissed his way back up my body until he was on top of me again. In one push he was inside of me, stretching in a sensation that was equal parts pleasure and pain. He was a big man, and the sensation of being enveloped and fucked by someone as powerful as him soon had me riding towards another peak. I moaned and clawed his shoulders as he took turns sucking on my tits and lovingly placing his forehead against mine.  
"Fuck,“ Mark cried as he closed his eyes and brushed his face against mine. I could feel the hot spurts of him filling my pussy up and I rocked gently against him, lost in the feeling of being so completely full. I pressed my face tight against his shoulder and enjoyed another climax as my pussy drained him of his cum.  
When Mark was finished he laid down beside me and I moved over to lay my head on his arm. His eyes were partly closed, and for a moment I feared he might be drifting off to sleep. Then he glanced over at me, an impish grin on his face.  
"Do I get credit for helping you write your next story,” he asked.  
I answered him with a hard pillow swat to the head.


End file.
